#and u didn't hear this from me

[kellyscowboy]

Whispers but I have important newsie questions

yes!! i'm happy to answer:))

[speakercrab666]

"what are you" a cognitohazard. a co- do i really have to explain the SCP foundation to u rn. on tumblr dot com be so fr.

[cairafea]

stupid dungeon meshi au where laios is an unexplainable eldritch monster thing that constantly eats anything he can get his hands on. everyone in the party treats him like a slightly disorderly raccoon. everyone outside the party gets a fastpass to heaven from just seeing him.

[piowasthere]

i love getting a notification from Pinterest with recommended pins just to see my own shit on there reposted by somebody else without credit or anything

oh, and the comments are always also really awesome too they're great if they're not busy being confused by the artist or what's going on or being too cringe that is

will always find smth they don't like and ask for it to stop cuz getting it out of recommend too wild of a challenge for 'em not like it's gonna reach the actual artist who made it in the first place anyway they don't even know their work's out there

<3

[amourtoken]

Yeah Nico can spit in my mouth ANYDAY

AND HE WOULD AFTER A ROUGH GAME

[salemontrial]

Why the FUCK didn't Sasha apologize to Quinni.

[plutonicbees]

young just eeps: the eeper cycle :3

(previously on young just eeps)

(next up on young just eeps)

:D

[cardiagf]

[ziezii]

hey there 😏 /leans by the doorframe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62525557

*runs away

[schnaf]

22 days until jooyeon's 22nd birthday

day 20 aka THE COUNTDOWN IS OVER - jooyeon's past birthday brrrr ppoppos

[thechaosthatensues]

someone pin me on my tummy and tkl my upper back, shoulders, and neck until I'm a giggly, flustered mess pls<3

[moogghost]

me when i started playing a game and customized a character so banger i had to make her into an oc. my weird robot catgirl thing asphodel 50% of the time it has no thoughts in its head. design to be adjusted bc i needed to draw her so bad but i was going off of my memory of her in-game look

atm i'm still debating lore/backstory for this girlthing bc i have Thoughts i just haven't beaten the game yet and i should. probably do that first but it does have a whole case of amnesia with a pinch of horrors going on i'd say

[doostyaudi]

question about ur Dandy, is he morally gray or just a straight up villain/monster?

Absolutely morally grey. I love thinking abt him so much it's not even funny. I have many thoughts and i could ramble for hours, but idk if that's what u came here for 🤷

Tho to put it simply he's epitome of weird, strange, and unsettling autism, his morals r quite inconsistent, he feels an extreme disconnect from his persona and the people around him, and he finds it hard to tell apart those who care abt him and who don't, in turn making him quite the paranoid guy

Soo yea quite morally grey if u ask me!

[buttfrovski]

i KNOW some of those sp animators are giddily kickin their feet and giggling whenever they get to draw the kids in cute lil outfits

[goldencorecrunches]

"I saved your life once. You don't have to do this." "I know," he says, and cuts another slice of fruit to place in her upturned palm. The aristocratic arch of her cheek is softened by the afternoon glow, and here under the sheltering eave of the branches criss-crossed with shadows. He likes to look at her. He's in no hurry. She'll figure it out one day. "Really, you don't owe me any debt." The single ox is getting on in years, and every year slower for it, the road to town longer and sprouting more stops. Every third month he shares the ox with his mother: he's been considering giving him to her outright, and buying a new one– well, new for him– new-old– newer than this– he'll miss him, though– but his mother will take care of him, that's all right– She's refused to ride up on the seat with him, choosing instead to stride beside the wagon, sword perched on her shoulder and wide-brimmed hat pulled down across her brow, for the whole world like a rogue cultivator from his favorite childhood stories. All she's missing is a nasty scar and a stalk of wheat poking out of her mouth. He hides a smile, so she won't raise her prickles at him. Well, maybe she does have the scar. He's been too polite to check. He wouldn't mind. "I know," he says. "Here." It's a beautiful cloth, silk-of-gold, heavy and tightly woven. It was something else, once, that he can tell as he runs it through his hands; there are holes from unpicked stitching. That's common enough in this part of the world, and it's impolite to ask where it comes from, even if usually everyone in the clutch of farmlands can trace the same scraps of precious textile through generations of repurposing. She's not from here. She won't meet his eyes– she keeps shifting back and forth on her feet, smoothing the fringe-ends of her hair. This came from the small sack she keeps tucked in the rafters of the barn and never looks at, except when she's very sad, or very angry. He spreads the cloth out over his knees. "It's lovely," he says. "Thank you. What do you think we should do with it?" "Why?" She is in front of him, towering over— he's taller than her, usually, but he's sitting and she's standing, and he makes no move to match her, simply tilts his head back at the neck to keep watch. 

"Why are you– I don't– you don't need to! Now I'm trying to repay you! Why won't you just take anything?"

"Qingyang," he says, gently, and reaches up a hand. She figures it out.

[cherryjuicegf]

They won't sleep tonight.

They couldn't even if they wanted. Not after everything, standing before nothing, their sides digged up and empty and lost and all that remains close being each other, crumbled and less than half of themselves, trying to form something less than a whole.

But Jaskier insisted, faint as it sounded, because she was stumbling on her feet and her shoulders were dragged by the earth and her eyes hadn't gone a second without flooding throughout the day. So much that he knew he had to save some of his tears to give her, in case hers ever dried up. Not letting her hurt bereft of tears, at least he could give her that.

The bed is fit for two whole people. Broken, hidden from her, a smile.

They won't sleep tonight.

They will say it's only for a few moments of rest, if rest could ever be so agonizing. They will say it's no use to roam the continent now, in the dark of the night, holding themselves from collapsing onto each other only for the sake of the names constantly hanging from their lips, now by so weak a string they almost let them drop. They will say it's only for rest.

And this is what it is.

This, and also the way he takes off his coat and his vest and suddenly his shoulders appear so shrunk under the worn-out shirt that she rests her hands on them without thinking, because they look like hurting. She caresses more than rubs them, and hopes it's enough. It's love, she won't say. It should be enough.

This, and also his hands coming up to unlace her shirt and help her peel it off her body, and then her skirt, and then, she stands still in her undergarment, and waits for him to also strip to his shirt. And then they face each other, hands on their sides, tired and empty, and they stare.

He affords a smile, faint. She smiles back. It's all they can afford.

This, as they slip under the thin blanket and they haven't done it for quite a while, but it feels so familiar now, like slipping back into their older broken molds, only they don't fit quite right anymore. This is a different kind of broken.

How gentle, then, how kind, to crumble again together.

His arms are open, forever open and waiting, and she thinks none of it as she crawls inside and wraps her body around his, clings tight and brusing. He happily welcomes the bruising. It's proof she's still here.

Her nose nuzzles into his shoulder and he buries his face in her hair, and breathes in the ashes and the exhaustion and the pain and the lilac and everything that makes her. Deep breaths, nonstopping. So that he memorizes the scent.

He only pulls back just a little, just to take a look at her eyes. Swollen and cut and bloodshot, and he suspects his are not much different as they're mirrored. But there's comfort, too. There, pooling between the crinkles along with the tears, carved between her eyebrows.

At least, at least.

He knows he's not much. At least, just enough. Enough to find the faint wave of hope between the flood of her eyes. Enough to mold a little dimple on her cheek where his thumb strokes, and make her eyes flutter close.

Less than whole. But holding her, just enough.

They will not sleep tonight.

Only, in a moment of despair, similar to so many other moments, she will kiss his lips. And he, he will kiss her too. Softly, barely there, for reassurance. He will kiss her lips, and then he will kiss the side of her neck. And then her shoulder, bare and slumped, and she will cling tighter on him because she has to cling somewhere, even just for a little bit. Just for tonight.

Only, in a moment of love, similar to so many other moments, she will bare her lungs in sighs and he will find shelter there, inside her as though to replace the lost warmth, or try to.

Alright, everything will be alright. I love you, everything will be alright.

Just for tonight, just for their lips to whisper each other's names too, the ones they so discreetly cover up in daylight. As though they could ever hide.

They will not sleep.

Not tonight, not for many other nights afterwards.

Instead, he will place one last kiss on her lips, and then rest into the crook of her neck, as she rests into his chest, and the gaping holes by their sides may prevent it from being whole, but for now, it's just enough.

It could never be more than that, anyway.

And if the lullaby he mutters and the soft vibration of his chest makes her eyes droop after a while, she will never admit it. If her lips tremble on his skin moments before her lashes do, to slowly fade his voice in a dreamless sleep, later, he will speak none of it.

Later, they will say they did not sleep that night.

It's love, they won't say. It's just enough.